


A Generic Carmilla Story

by RunWithWolves



Series: 25 Days of Sweetheart [23]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 02:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWithWolves/pseuds/RunWithWolves
Summary: If you take a Carmilla story and crack it open to see what lies at the core, you're going to find a love story. There are certain pieces that make a story Hollstein's love story and others we can throw away. Today, Laura runs a bakery and Carmilla is the firefighter who won't stop coming by the shop to annoy her.It's amazing to watch annoyance turn to love.





	A Generic Carmilla Story

**Author's Note:**

> i sometimes get the question 'how do you write a carmilla story' and, without sitting down and actually chatting together because there are so many nuances to this, this is the best I could do and still keep it a story.
> 
> besides, did you really think we could go one week without me writing something odd? ;)

How do you write a Carmilla story? How do you distill a universe down so that it fits in whatever mould you choose without losing a single inch. A single beat. A single heartfelt moment. For if the heart of canon is lost, if the thing that makes a character breath and feel and thrive disappears, the readers will know that this isn’t their story. This isn’t their Hollstein.

So how do we make it theirs? When we strip away the series, what lies at it’s core?

Two girls. One love. Whatever story we put them in - their love must always hold true. Their characters must remain intact. Carmilla - the broody lesbian who doesn’t want to believe in sunshine. Laura - the sunshine lesbian who wants to tackle every problem. 

But it’s Carmilla Karnstein, you say, and you left out that she’s a vampire. 

It doesn’t matter. Not here. Not for our purposes. The vampire component is fun but ultimately irrelevant to our love story. Laura falls for the human underneath, not for whatever veneer we stick on top. 

Today, Carmilla will be a human firefighter. Why? Mostly because I haven’t written a story with a firefight yet and because, the point here, is to show that they can be anything. That the covering doesn’t matter. 

Also, who doesn’t love a sexy firefighter?

Laura will. But not yet. We need to figure out who she is in our story and the place she intersects with Carmilla. The place where two separate paths will cross and the universe will shift just a little. Once you fall into it, you will realize that there are a hundred different ways the same people can meet. 

But stories start with conflict and this one is no different. Distill Carmilla series down a hundred different ways and it always starts the same - Laura and Carmilla don’t get along. Mostly because Carmilla is antagonistic. So, we need a reason for Laura to stay instead of just walking away. We need a situation that gives her time to fall in love. 

She can’t be trapped in a dorm room, the girl with the annoying roommate, forever. 

So, today let’s make her a shopkeeper who Carmilla interacts with. Let’s say, a baker. Why? Because we know in canon that Laura likes sweet treats and if we can get Carmilla to come to her counter as a paying customer then Laura can’t turn her away. 

This is where we start. A baker and a firefighter in conflict. 

If I pitched you that sentence, would you think Carmilla series?

Fanfic isn’t the plot, it’s the people and the beats that they live in. Our first beat is the meeting. The driver that sets it all off. Perhaps let’s give Carmilla a reason to be grumpy, set off their love story with dislike.

#

The whole point of being a firefighter was that she didn’t have to walk anywhere. Carmilla grumbled as she walked down the sidewalk, glaring at the pavement as though it had personally offended her. She glanced at her phone, hoping against hope to see it light up with a call from the motorcycle repair shop. The screen was frustratingly blank. She shoved it back in her pocket just in time to feel it vibrate. 

Eyes wide, Carmilla grabbed it, “Hello?”

“Carm-sexy!” She practically growled when Kirsch’s voice came through the line, “I know the bike’s still toast after the whole ‘can we ride it across the ladders thing’ so could you pick us up some doughnuts on your way in? Like. We had 4 calls last night and no-one wants to make breakfast so we’re super hungry.”

“It’s your fault the bike’s in the shop,” Carmilla said, “And now you want a favour?”

“Please?” He begged, “We’ll owe you one.”

“You already owe me one.”

“Two! I’ll owe you two!” She hung up on him. Shaking her head as she rolled her eyes. Turning, Carmilla eyed the small bakery on her left. Pens and Pastries. Some kind of food and writing bakery that she’d driven by a hundred times without even noticing. 

Sighing, Carmilla shook her head and walked in the door.

The bells chimed above her head and Carmilla had five seconds to take in the small array of tables, the computer bank of laptops along the wall, and the sugary display before a sunny voice was calling out to her, “Good morning! How can we help you?”

“Dozen doughnuts,” Carmilla said, checking her phone again.

#

Scratch that! Cut it off. We don’t need it. We don’t need Carmilla and Laura meeting. It’s fun and nice and beautiful but this is the story distilled to it’s core and their meeting doesn’t tell us anything that we couldn’t learn elsewhere. The story should start at the last possible second and this isn’t it. 

This isn’t the moment. This isn’t what the story’s about. It would work if I was writing a story about Carmilla the firefighter with a side of Hollstein but it’s not. It’s just not. Whether the show knows it or not, a side effect of the one camera angle and exposition heavy show is that they took the plot and made it second. 

It’s a love story.

So as much as it hurts, we have to take everything we’ve written and put it in the pile with all the other stories pieces that never made it on the page. Hundreds of words the readers will never get to see. 

We’ve got to start where it matters. Let’s try again. Conflict. Hollstein.

#

The second Carmilla walked in the door of the bakery, Laura scowled and turned away. Carmilla grinned. “Now come on, cupcake,” Carmilla sauntered up to the counter, “Is that any way to treat a paying customer?”

Laura had a dab of flour on the side of her nose, hair thrown back in a messy ponytail as she pulled a batch of muffins from the oven, “You haven’t paid yet.”

“I’ve been a loyal customer for all of nine days,” Carmilla feigned hurt, “and this is the thanks I get? I should just go to Tim Hortons.”

“I wish you would,” Laura grumbled, setting the muffins down, “Let them deal with you and your constant amusement that the baked goods aren’t ‘exactly as you wanted them’ so they ‘should be free’. Like, seriously? Who does that!” 

Carmilla shrugged and pointed behind Laura to the bakery wall, “You put the sign up, cupcake.”

The bakery was small and cozy, with small tables set around the warmth of the authentic baking oven. Beside it was a small, handpainted sign - “Made to order and exactly how you like them, or it’s free!”

“It’s the spirit of the thing,” Laura hissed, “You’re being a pedant because you think it’s fun.”

“Not much else to do at the firehouse,” Carmilla admitted, “and I’ll admit that the ‘fire-bros’ aren’t near as nice to look at as you are. Especially with that cute little crinkle you get when you’re upset.”

Laura’s jaw dropped. Two muffins in hand as she froze, halfway to the display, “Are you- are you actually hitting on me right now?”

“I could stop if you want?” Carmilla offered. Then she gave Laura a smirk, “Thanks for noticing though, I’ve only been trying for days.”

“You’ve been intentionally annoying me, for days, because you think I’m cute?” Laura’s hands pinwheeled, accidentally throwing the muffins and having to lunge after them before they hit the floor. When she emerged again, there was a high colour in her cheeks that didn’t keep Carmilla from noticing that Laura hadn’t told her to stop, “You couldn’t have just asked for my number like a normal person?”

Carmilla put on her best affronted face, “I’m not going to rude, cupcake. You should be allowed to work your job without customers hitting on you.”

“You just said you’ve been hitting on me!”

“So you did notice?” Carmilla purred, “I thought I was just being annoying?”

Laura threw her hands in the air, “You’re definitely being annoying. Right now. Super annoying. Like, do you actually get any firefighting done or do you just snark your way around the firehouse wearing those ridiculously tight cut shirts that don’t even have sleeves.” Laura glared at her from across the counter, “Why can’t you just wear something with sleeves!”

Carmilla said nothing, she just gave Laura a smirk and crossed her arms just enough to increase the definition in her arms. 

Laura pointed a spatula at her, “You’re the worst.”

“Maybe,” Carmilla agreed, “I still want my doughnuts. One dozen please.”

#

Conflict. Dislike. Intentional antagonism from Carmilla and accidental gay staring from Laura. All beautiful and wonderful things to start us off. This is the beginning so all we have are two girls who don’t like each other and a spark between them. The kind of spark that makes fireworks fly as attraction turns to conflict. 

Because there is attraction here. Attraction manifested in cute button noses and eyes on bare backs when they should look away. 

But it’s nothing more than that. Just the start. The baseline. A girl who’s cute. 

The story is consistent and the story is true. Carmilla falls first. Carmilla falls fast and deep while Laura falls slow and long. A scene so vital that it has been written time and time again until you begin to wonder if you can stop repeating yourself yet and you get tired of writing it.

But it’s the fulcrum everything else turns on.

The moment antagonism turns to love because Laura says something that Carmilla’s never heard before. The moment Laura says something that Carmilla didn’t think anyone would ever say to her. 

And Carmilla falls.

#

“Morning, cupcake.”

Laura took one look at her and practically sprinted to the back room. Raising an eyebrow, Carmilla meandered over to the counter. She held her tongue when Laura brought her a box of doughnuts, having one already waiting. “Got my order memorized?” Carmilla purred. 

Laura just glared at her, “These are the most perfect doughnuts that I’ve ever created and I’m betting that even you can’t find a problem with them.”

Flipping the lid open, Carmilla carefully inspected the doughnuts. It only took a glance to see that they were impeccable. If nothing else, Laura was good at her job. Still, Carmilla moved slowly. So slowly that she could see the impatience growing on Laura’s face as she tried not to shift. Just as Laura literally bit her tongue to keep from talking, Carmilla said, “Two comments, cupcake.”

“What!” The word burst from Laura, “what could possibly be wrong with these doughnuts? These are the world’s best doughnuts. I know because I spent all morning making them so that they could meet your ridiculously high standards. Every sprinkle is perfectly spaced from the previous one but enough spontaneity to ‘be fun’.” Laura used air quotes. Literal airquotes. “There is a perfect distribution of fruit and chocolate flavoured doughnuts. No coconut because it’s ‘an affront to flavour’. None of the doughnuts are touching to avoid flavour contamination and every single one is perfectly round because i measured. I measured, Carmilla!”

Carmilla waited the tirade out, “And was it all worth it? To meet your absolutely ridiculous promise for everything to be perfect?”

“Absolutely,” there was something shining in Laura’s eyes, “you want to know why, Miss Swagger Leather Pants Firefighter Hotshot? Because everyone deserves to have someone put effort in for them. That’s what that promise really means when I say they’re made to order. It means I’ll try to do it the way you like, because everyone is worth putting in the effort for. Everyone is worth caring for. That’s what I’d want for me. Not just ‘oh i tried my best’; I want someone who will actually care. So,” Laura leaned across the counter to look right into her eyes, “I put in the effort for you today. For you.”

Laura pointed at the box, “You tell me what could possibly be wrong with those doughnuts!”

Carmilla swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat, staring into those passionate eyes that looked back at her. The twisted strings of Laura’s aprons and the dark circles on her face that indicated just how early Laura had been up. 

Had been up for Carmilla. 

A hundred different snarky comments ran through her head.

Her radio went off, blaring at her that she needed to come back to the station immediately. Laura’s eyes went wide as Carmilla’s shoulders straightened. She threw two twenties on the counter, grabbed the doughnuts and ran.

Firefighters fight fires.

#

And so Carmilla falls. She always falls. Time and time again she falls, struck speechless by the passionate truth of Laura. Every sentence Laura speaks is full of emotion and warmth while Carmilla so far has been nothing but snark and snip. 

So far. 

The middle comes next and the middle matters least when it comes to plot. It can be as long or as short as you want it to be but the goal is always the same. 

They get to know each other. Carmilla’s walls come down. Laura softens. 

Laura falls but doesn’t realize it. Too caught up in timelines and jobs and plot points that don’t matter.

You will write moments like this.

#

Laura’s head swiveled to the door as Carmilla walked in the next day, something like relief on her face before it snapped back to it’s more familiar mode. Still, it was long enough for Carmilla to see it. “Now, don’t go worrying on my account.” she says, “if the fires get me, you’ll be free of my annoying customer service needs.”

Laura’s jaw dropped, “I don’t want you dead!”

“Good to know,” Carmilla said, “I wouldn’t be nearly as attractive if I was dead.” She gave Laura a wink but ter heart wasn’t in it. All she could see was a box of 12 perfect doughnuts waiting for her when she came back from the run. All covered in soot and sweat. 

“Sooooooooo,” Laura’s voice echoed in the pause, “Another dozen doughnuts, I assume?”

Carmilla nodded automatically. Then paused. “What’s your favourite kind?”

Laura frowned, hand already hovering over the doughnuts, “Oh. Um. I’m not really a doughnut person? More cookies and cupcakes.”

“Alright,” Carmilla put her hands in her pockets and tried to look nonchalant, “A dozen cookies then.”

Slowly, Laura moved to the other counter and started boxing up the cookies. Carmilla looked around the shop, pointedly ignoring the way Laura stared at her. Finally, she broke, “I know my face is gorgeous but if you want to look at it this long, I’ll send you a firefighter calendar. I’m July.”

Laura choked, “You’re on a calendar.”

This was more familiar and Carmilla’s body loosened, “You sound surprised, cupcake? Don’t want to see all of this in nothing but the standard issue pants and a sports bra doing chin ups on one of the trucks?”

She could literally see Laura’s eyes dilate. 

So she brought it home, “I’m July because it’s the center-fold. No-one’s buying Kirsch doing his best impression of a pole-dancer on the firehouse pole.”

Laura stared at her for a moment longer then shook her head, “You distracted me. I wanted to ask why you’re ordering cookies.”

Carmilla took the box and gave her a wink, “I have to keep my air of mystery somehow, don’t I?”

#

Rinse and repeat as many times as you like. 

But.

Somewhere in the middle, you will write a scene a different scene. A scene like this. A scene where every one of Carmilla’s walls come tumbling down. The moment when Laura starts to understand that things she thought were black and white are really a little more grey. Monsters aren’t always monsters. People are more than they seem. Sometimes, Carmilla will be starved and tied to a chair. 

Other times, it’s something else altogether. 

#

Carmilla trudged through the snow, her feet barely leaving the ground as the sun just started to poke over the horizon. She could feel the remnants of the fire on her skin, not even the firehouse showers able to get it all off. The smell of smoke following her like a cloud.

She stared at her shoes. Black boots scuffed in the toe. One step after another. She just had to make it home. Make it home to an empty house and an empty fridge and just burrow herself in bed. 

“Carmilla?”

At Laura’s voice, Carmilla forced her eyes up. The baker was unlocking the door to her shop, wrapped up in a warm coat with a scarf tied tight around her chin, “Hey, cupcake.” Carmilla drawled, “Don’t think I’ll make it in today.”

She blinked and Laura was in front of her. A quick touch to her cheek. Then the hand retracted. “You’re bleeding.”

“There was a fire,” she said, unnecessarily but after an 18 hour shift her brain couldn’t process subtleties, “It’ll heal.”

“Let me clean it first. Please? You can even take something for the road. First baked good of the day.” 

Carmilla was helpless to break away from Laura’s hand on her wrist, tugging her gently into the shop and depositing her on one of the stools at the counter. 

“Wait right here? Okay?” Laura backed away slowly, like she was sure Carmilla would run.

Bleerily, Carmilla nodded. 

Laura was gone for what seemed like seconds and an eternity. When she came back, she had a first aid kit, a mug, and what appeared to be a fresh plate of cookies. She hopped up on the stool beside Carmilla’s, “Come here.”

Carmilla turned and there was immediately a hand on her face. The heat of it warm as Laura cupped her cheek and gently began to clean the dirt off the cut. “It’ll heal.” Carmilla mumbled.

“Shhhhh,” Laura said, “Just let me do this, okay?”

The shop was warm, the smell of baked goods filling the air, and Carmilla let herself sink into the feel of it. Everything the opposite of the cold house that she’d been so eager to go back to. She let herself fall into Laura’s gentle touch, her soft strokes even when the ointment stung. Carmilla let herself take in the moment.

“You want to talk about it?” Laura offered. Her gaze was focused on the cut as she dabbed at it, tongue sticking out slightly.

Carmilla’s laugh was dry, “Not really.”

She was expecting anything but Laura’s answer, “Okay.”

Another moment passed in silence until Laura leaned back, hand falling down and Carmilla found herself almost chasing the warmth. “All done.” Laura whispered. She looked over at the plate of cookies and what Carmilla suddenly realized was a mug of hot chocolate, “I can pack that for the road if you want?”

Carmilla knows what it is. An invitation. An offering of company. A chance to stay. She thought of her empty apartment for half second, staring at Laura who was looking at her feet. The offer hung between them. 

The answer slipped out, “I can stay.”

So, Carmilla sat on the stool and watched Laura prepare her shop of the day. Slowly, she dunked fresh cookies in her hot chocolate as Laura made batch after batch, keeping up a quiet patter of conversation that barely required Carmilla’s input.

Words that were everything and nothing. Words that simply said she was there. Words that filled Carmilla up from the inside out.

“My brother died in a house fire.” The words slipped out and Carmilla found she didn’t care. 

Laura stopped, flour streaking the side of her face, and looked at her. Silent. An invitation still extended. The words fell off Carmilla’s tongue and the story unfolded like it hadn’t in decades. When she finished, Laura came around the counter and sat beside her.

Quiet. Watching the snow fall. 

“I’m sorry, Carmilla,” she said at last, “I’m so sorry.”

Carmilla let a smile slip out, one tainted tears but Laura looked at her like that didn’t make it any less beautiful.

She left with a box of perfect cookies under arm and fell asleep with them sitting on her bedside table. The room warmer simply for the box.

#

There will be other moments. You will write about the night Carmilla accidentally stays past closing and Laura somehow talks her into teaching her how to waltz. You will write about the time Laura shows up at the firehouse, bribing everyone with baked goods to let her in to see Carmilla on a bad day. You will write about the first time Laura actually gets her hands on the firefighter calendar. You will write about Carmilla taking Laura for a spin in the truck.

Then you will reach your climax. 

You will write about a fire because this has always been a story about firefighters even as it is a story about Hollstein. Stories about Hollstein can only end one way, regardless of the plot. 

So you will write about a fire in a tiny bakery, a staff member who didn’t know how to turn the oven off properly. You will write about a call in the middle of the night to the nearest firehouse. You will write about the stutter in Carmilla’s step when she hears the address. 

The desperation with every movement she makes as she races to get her gear on and run to the truck.

The reader will already know about the little apartment on the second floor of the bakery and the baker who lives there with her Doctor Who mug and yellow pillow. They will know because you already wrote about the time Carmilla showed up at 2am when the firestation seemed too loud and Laura took her upstairs, dressed her in nerdy pajamas and made her get some sleep. They will know because you wrote about the time Carmilla, on her day off, snuck into Laura’s apartment and turned off the alarm so that Laura could finally get enough sleep to rid her of the black circles under her eyes. They will know because you wrote about Carmilla’s absolute failure at baking cookies while Laura was sleeping. 

They will know what the stakes are when the bakery and the little apartment above it go up in flames. 

There will be a twist, there is always a twist. This time it is that Laura calls Carmilla on her personal cell while the sirens are roaring and Carmilla is wishing the firetruck could go just a little bit faster. Laura will call, crying and tell Carmilla that she got out okay but that the whole bakery is burning. 

It will be sad. That’s Laura’s life. 

But the reader will be relieved. Carmilla will be relieved. Because Laura is okay. 

Until.

Carmilla gets to the bakery and Laura is nowhere to be found. The reader will learn, as Carmilla does, that Laura has gone back inside because there are families in the apartments next to her who couldn’t get out. If there is one thing Laura Hollis does, it’s caring.

So Carmilla will swear and race into the fire after her. Carmilla always goes after her.

There will be smoke and terror and flame but Carmilla will find Laura. She will find Laura who is holding a young girl and trying to get out. Carmilla will reach out for Laura. She will reach out but will not get to touch her because the ceiling will collapse in flame. 

There will be time for a choice.

And Carmilla will chose.

Carmilla will leap towards the fire, grabbing Laura and the girl. She will throw them towards Kirsch even if that means there is no time to save herself. Carmilla will be buried under fire and rubble and Laura will scream. Scream and fight and cry as Kirsch throws her over his shoulder and hauls her out of the building.

Laura will be silent as they hose the building down. A wave of grief crashing over her as the paramedics force her to stay in the ambulance, breathing down oxygen from a mask placed over burning lungs. 

Everyone is safe and Carmilla is dead.

Except she’s not. She’d not and Laura will hear that they found her, ripping through the crowds to get to Carmilla’s stretcher. Laura will force anyone who would object to let her go to the hospital and she will not leave Carmilla’s bedside until she wakes up.

#

“Wow, that was a kick.” Carmilla croaked. Her eyes flickered open as she leaned back in the pillows. Literally everything hurt but it didn’t matter. 

It didn’t matter because Laura was very much alive and beside her and throwing herself onto the bed to pull Carmilla into a hug. Tears already in her eyes and a scrape on her cheek. 

Carmilla touched it softly.

#

Then, finally, you will write what this whole thing has been building to.

You will write a kiss. 

Hollstein in love.

And you will smile. The shell around it doesn’t matter, it’s always a love story.

**Author's Note:**

> How is it already the middle of the final week?!? When did that happen?
> 
> Cupcakes. Thank you for every kudos and comment and [ tumblr stop-in](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/). You've made the time fly and put a smile on my face with every interaction. Thank you. stay stupendous. Aria


End file.
